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next morning right after prayers. It will be dawn, enough light for Rashid and Karim to fly their pilotless planes, before the roads get busy, and before the workers show up at the facility. There will only be a night crew. Are your men ready, Mahmoud?”

     “Yes, it will be a great victory to the glory of Allah, the Most Blessed, the Merciful.”

     As they were leaving, al Khalil looked at Mahmoud.

     “Islam has two sides. While we submit to Allah’s Law, we also have a duty to have others submit as well. And that makes Islam a warrior’s faith. It is written, ‘It is in the nature of Islam to dominate, not to be dominated, to impose its laws on all nations and to extend its power to the entire planet It’s time for the world to see this other side, to feel the sword of our faith.”

     Hussein, who recognized the statement as one of Tariq’s favorite exhortations to his men during training and indoctrination, nodded, and Mahmoud replied automatically, “Alhamdu’llah.”

44. On the Road to Ashqelon, Israel

Steve drove a rental car with his father on Route 35 after turning west at Hebron.

     “Any news from Kella?” Marshall asked.

     “Her cell doesn’t answer. I’ve left several messages. I also called her parents’ house, the ambassador’s residence, but I haven’t been able to get through whoever is answering the phone. Anyway, I left my name and number but she hasn’t returned my call. She can’t be home, otherwise she would have called.”

     “Well, I’m sure she’s okay. She may have been needed at some ‘command performance’ event, something important her father said she needed to attend. I knew an ambassador once whose daughter was the hostess for all of her father’s official functions. The wife was not interested—too busy having an affair with the chauffeur who was a major in that country’s security service.”

     “You’re probably right. But, after we’re done in Ashqelon, I’d like to drive up to Tel Aviv and find out what’s going on. So, what’s the plan? What are we going to do in Ashqelon?” Steve asked.

     “Here’s the Israeli checkpoint to leave the West Bank into Israel. There’s a line. Let’s get the Ashqelon map out.”

     He took it of his bag on the floor between his feet.

     “I think we should split up. You keep the car and I’ll find a taxi, pretend to be a tourist and have him drive me around. You focus on the Old City and I’ll focus on the New City.”

     As he spoke, he pointed to the old and new cities with his finger.

     “We’ll divide up the town. You have the best chance of spotting al Khalil if he’s given up his monk disguise. We’ll meet at the bus terminal at 5:00 p.m. Here,” and he again pointed, “If one of us gets lucky, he should call the other. We’ll meet and sort out what we’ve got. We’ll have to decide whether to get the information directly to the Israelis or to go through the ambassador, or the local CIA chief of station.”

     On the way, he added, “Did you know that Ashqelon is one of the oldest urban settlements, about five-thousand years old? It’s where Samson and Delilah had their famous barbershop scene. During the Crusades, because the city was the gateway to Egypt to the southwest and Jerusalem to the northeast, it became the scene of several key battles. It changed hands three or four times, was destroyed and rebuilt almost every time, once by Richard the Lion Hearted and another by Salahdin, the Kurd who eventually defeated the Crusaders.”

     An Israeli soldier walked up to their car and motioned for them to lower the window.

     “Passports, please,” he said, keeping his Galil rifle loosely pointed at them. He glanced at their American passports and said, “That line on the left.” Then he moved on to the next car.

     Steve pulled out of the line and got into a shorter one where they were asked to get out and the car was thoroughly searched. Eventually, they were allowed through.

     “If you’re a Palestinian, you could be here a long time,” Steve said. “Working on one side of the line and living on the other must be difficult.”

     “It’s impossible,” Marshall agreed.

     “Now that I’m a knight, I feel personally involved in the history of the place.”

     “The Knights Hospitaller fought at Ashqelon, and you can still see the ruins of the Tower of Blood, also called Hospitaller Tower. Now the area around the Crusader Castle is a national park. There are probably campers, young Western tourists, in the park. And there is a Club MediterranĂ©e right next to the Park by the Northern Wall, not far from the Jaffa Gate.”

     Once they reached the town and went over the map of the city again, they separated and began their search. Steve kept the car and drove south on Hatayasim past the Painted Tomb, made a left toward the Town Hall and parked near the Histadrut Building in the old city. From there he started walking. He knew there was only a slim probability of finding al Khalil but it was their only chance.

     While he was looking around, he thought about where Kella might be. Could she possibly still be in Paris, held up by work? But why wouldn’t she have alerted him? If she was in Israel, she couldn’t be that busy that she would have forgotten. Or maybe they had miscommunicated about the date? That also seemed improbable.

     He walked past old buildings containing restaurants, offices, small hotels, smaller apartments and town houses. As he approached the railroad station, he saw a van pull up to a two-storey house. Two people came out to help the driver carry what appeared to be food, dishes and

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